Kicked Out
by The Devil's Angel 1313
Summary: *Scary Godmother FanFic* Hannah has no where to go. She's fourteen and her dad kicked her out, Scary is pulling away. She hates Earth and would rather live in the Fright Side permanently, but she's human, she can't do that, she will just continue to age while her friends stay young. So her solution is to not be human, no matter what that costs. Better than it sounds. Please review


**A/N: So, hey guys! What's up? For the record, I don't own any Scary Godmother characters. It's easier to picture these guys as real people for this piece of writing. It's in one giant chapter and it starts a bit fluffy but gets more substantial because that's how I roll, so yeah... Enjoy and review :)  
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Hannah inserted the worn skeleton key into her closet door and twisted smoothly, as she did every Saturday morning. But this might be the last time. She yawned as she opened the door, it was seven a.m . here on Earth, way too early to be up, but it was seven o'clock last night in the Side. The door swung open into a fam iliar cobweb strewn living room with an eerie creak. Hannah pulled the key from the door and hung it back around her neck.

"Scary! Mom! I'm home!" She called into the house. Her biological mother had died two years ago, when Hannah was twelve, and since then Scary had really taken on motherly responsibilities. "Mom!" She tossed her overnight bag on the couch, Skully had bought it for her for her birthday last year, it had little laughing skulls all over it. He had thought it was just "fabulous" and so had Hannah.

"Hannah?" Came from the kitchen. "One second!" She emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands on a black towel, which she then threw over one shoulder. "Orson stopped by last night and asked me to tell you movie night is on. At 8:30 I think ."

"Coolio," Hannah replied, flopping on the couch. She kicked her neon purple Doc Martens on the levitating table. "Can I take your broom?" Hannah cast Scary the puppy dog eyes. "Puh-lease?"

Scary gave her the most perfected mom glare ever. "Hannah. Really? I'm suppose to entrust my fourteen year old with a magic broom, who, might I add, is on her way to see a boy? I may as well just hand you a bottle of booze and expect a grandchild in nine months."

"Mother!" Hannah gasped. "Firstly, it's Orson, not "a boy". We're just friends. Secondly, I have my Fright Side Learner's Permit. Thirdly, I'll be fifteen in a week. And I've never been drunk."

"I think you forgot to address the grand child part of that statement," Scary joked.

Hannah glared at her. No way would she have "The Talk" with Scary. No way. "Like I said, he's Orson." She kicked her feet down and stood to face Scary. "He's my best friend, my best friend the vampire prince. There is no chance of anything happening between us, we would never risk messing stuff up."

Scary waltzed back into the kitchen and pulled on an oven mit. She bent over to take her Spider Cake out of the oven. "Uh huh. That's what they always say. You just watch, Hannah Marie." Her perfectly baked cake slid from the oven. Hannah made a face at Scary's back. "I saw that. "

Hannah laughed. "So can I take the broom or not, Mom?"

Scary removed the oven mitts and sighed, "Of course you can take the broom, I just worry about you. You're getting older and..."

"'And' what? I'm not that old," Hannah demanded. "Don't worry."

"Hannah, I never age. I will forever and always be thirty-six, the age when I be came a full-fledged witch. You will age. I cannot see that happen again."

"Again?" Hannah asked hesitantly.

Scary sighed and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "Yes. Again. Many years ago, almost two hundred now, I saw the man I love die of old age. And sixty years later, my son died. I can't watch that happen to you, too."

"I'm sorry," Hannah said quietly.

"It's not your fault you're human," Scary said sadly, shaking her head. She sniffled a little and turned away from Hannah. She started doing the dishes, which meant she was really nervous because usually she would just wave her hands and, wa-laa, they would be done.

Scary's voice echoed in her head, It's not your fault you're human.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?" She said weakly.

"What if I wasn't human?" Hannah asked, getting the words out quickly as possible.

Scary whirled. Her eyes flared an ethereal purple and she hissed, "Don't even think like that!"

Hannah flinched, "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry, it was just a thought. It's been really hard these last few years and you're the only thing that's helped me, I mean it . Honestly I would rather - " Hannah's bat watch screeched, meaning it was seven thirty. "Oh! I have to go if I'm going to get to Orson's on time! We can talk later, okay?" She was already grabbing her bag off the couch. "Orson will ring if I'm staying over. Bye." And out the door she went, forgetting about the broom entirely.

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Hannah walked along Banshee Boulevard in the noisy dark. Scary lived in the more "humanized" part of Fright Side, though it was still plenty creepy. Just like Hannah wanted. Moans and groans wafted from the rustling corn fields, empty rocking chairs creaked on porches, silvery clouds drifted over the moon and blocked out the light. She waved to Calvin the Grave Keeper when she wandered past, he smiled a toothless grin and shuffled on. Usually she was stop to talk to him but walking to Orson's castle took almost an hour besides and Black Cat Alley was closed, eliminating shortcuts.

Hmm, Orson... She thought about their friendship. Friday movie nights had started almost three years ago and she had never missed one. How they always managed to find a new movie was a miracle to her. She told him everything, though, how could her Mom think there would be anything...romantic there? She had told him abo ut this bully in third grade and she had cried in his arms when her mom died and showed up on his doorstep after her first breakup. He knew too much about her and she about him and wished Scary would get that. The real reason she thought that was probably because Orson had gotten quite a bit more attractive over the years. No hunched back, his thick black hair hung just below his ears and the red in his eyes had died down to embers at the center or chocolate brown/black eyes. His black jeans were always riddled with safety pins and chains and any other metal bits he could find. In reality, he looked like Hannah's twin. She was all black and metal jeans or gothic skirts with chains or suspenders, not to mention her purple romper stompers and heavily lined eyes.

"Hannah!" Someone called.

She snapped out of her thoughts with a sharp jolt and turned all about, looking for the source of the voice. "Oh," she giggled. "Rayne! You scared me."

"I take pride in that because nothing scares you," Rayne laughed. Rayne, unlike Orson, was a ghost. It was pretty obvious. She wore a pastel blue dress with a white sash tied into a big bow in the back. The only unusual thing was the front was stained by blood that had poured from her slit throat, a giant purple and red gash from ear to ear.

"Uh huh, because a tiny blonde girl in a blue dress is terrifying," Hannah mocked.

"Whatever you say. Off to Orson's?" Rayne skipped alongside Hannah cheerfully.

"Of course, I have the movie tonight. If only Fright Side had Netflix," Hannah said sadly, shaking her head.

"Had what?" Rayne asked, confused.

"Nothing, nothing."

"Alright, well I need to get back to the pub. You and Orson should swing by tomorrow, I'm on bar with Tobias. We can have some drinks and close up." Rayne started to double back to her father's bar. Seeming ghosts never aged or got sick, they drank whatever whenever.

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "The Tobias?"

Rayne looked down in shame and quickly snapped, "Hush your mouth. I'll see you guys tomorrow." And then less harshly, "Ta-ta, darling." Off she skipped.

Hannah shook her head and smiled at her friend's back then looked back ahead to the road. Belfry Manor was in view and the walk wouldn't take much longer but she bent down on the dirt road and untied her boots anyway, they weren't walking shoes. She walked the remainder of the way being ever so careful not to step on rocks or glass, her black tights weren't much protection.

Hannah arrived at the castle ten minutes later and smiled at the gargoyles guarding the heavy wooden doors. "'Sup, guys? "

The both snorted and laughed, "Nothing much, Hannah." And opened the doors for her. The big stone foyer made her soft footsteps sound humongous as they echoed about. She heard Ruby down the hall and stopped in to say hi.

"Oh, Hannah!" She trilled happily, gathe ring the girl in a hug. "Your birthday is next Friday, right?"

"Yeah, it's not a big deal though. I'm not doing anything," Hannah admitted.

"Are you sure?" She asked as they walked towards Orson's tv room.

"Yeah. It's just fifteen. I mean, look at Scary Godmother, she probably doesn't even know her age at this point." Hannah shrugged. She loved Ruby but needed to talk to Orson and hoped she wasn't coming off curt. "Orson's in there, right? I' m sorry, I just really gotta talk to him ."

"Of course. Pizza's in the kitchen, popcorn's in the cupboard, drinks in the fridge - well, you know where everything is. Max and I are running out for a last minute meeting. Government things, you know. We'll see you tomorrow, or next week end, I suppose. Goodbye, Hannah," She said and then, well, turned into a bat and flew away.  
Hannah padded down the hall and pushed Orson's heavy door open. "Finally!" He cried. "Where were you?"

"Forgot the broom and I ran into Rayne and your mom was talking to me about my birthday. Busy night...or morning," Hannah explained as she dug her pjs out of her bag and changed behind a closet door. Green and blue plaid pants and a black, "I Don't Suffer From Insanity, I Enjoy Every Minute Of It" t-shirt. She whisked her long brown hair into a ponytail and flopped onto the couch, exhausted from the walk, and forgetting to talk to Orson.

"Movie?" Orson asked.

"Oh, right!" Hannah said, jumping from t he couch and rummaging through her bag again. She tossed the case to Orson. "Nightmare Before Christmas."

"Hmm, okay." He laughed and put the disc in. Both of them sat on the couch and Orson put one arm around Hannah. Not in a boyfriend way, just in a I-need-a-place-to-put-my-arm way. She laid her head against his chest and they watched the movie for a little bit.

Hannah was just about to fall asleep when Jack Skellington was singing "Making Christmas" and woke herself up enough to murmur, "Orson?"

"Mmm?" He asked, looking from the screen .

She sighed. "I gotta talk to you."

He paused the movie and looked at his best friend. "What's wrong?" He inquired gently.

She blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Where do you want me to start? Problems to do with the Side or Earth?"

"The most important ones."

"Um...so...my dad kicked me out," Hannah admitted in shame. After her mom died.. .all down hill from there... alcoholism and yelling. This was the last straw, Hannah guessed. "I went back while he was at work today and grabbed some stuff and came here."

Orson nodded slowly,. "Where've you been staying?"

Hannah shrugged and got up and started pacing, "Friends' couches. Cemeteries. It 's been two weeks."

"Hannah! Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped." Orson regarded her sadly.

"That brings me to issues in the Side. I think Scary might tell me to stop coming. She was talking about her husband and son today and said she didn't want to see me grow old and die."

"I never met them, but I know how she feels. You and me, we've both aged but...I'm 16. Pretty soon I'll slow down and then stop altogether."

"I know, I know," Hannah snapped in frustration. Her pacing speed increased and she tugged on her ponytail.

Orson jumped from the couch with vampiric speed and placed both hands on her shoulders, stopping her pacing. "Hannah! Chill out, man. You're making me nervous. Why don't we tell Scary about your dad? She'll help you out and we can figure everything out together. Okay?"

"No, no. Can I just stay here tonight? I t's nine a.m. for me and I had to get up at six thirty and then walk five miles. "

"It's nine a.m. for me, too, duh," He reminded her, referring to that whole vampire sleep-all-day-party-all-night schedule.

"I'm not going over there," Hannah insisted.

"That's okay. She can come over here," Orson pointed out and dove for the bat shaped phone. He picked up the receiver and dialed Scary's number. Hannah tried to grab him and he just levitated to the ceiling with a smile. "Hello? Skully? Yeah, I need Scary. Thanks. Yup." He waited a minute. "Hey! Scary. I'm good. You? Good. Hannah isn't feeling too well and I think you should come get her. She's pretty pale and I really didn't need to see all that popcorn she ate for the second time tonight. Twenty minutes? Sounds good. Okay. See you then. Thanks." He hung up and landed on the floor with cat-like grace. He placed the receiver on the cradle and received the dirtiest of looks from Hannah. "Sorry, Princess." He apologized, using her kid nickname.

"Whatever, Dracula," she huffed, using his nickname as well, and turned away.

"Look, I know you're mad and I know you don't want help, but this time, you're gonna need it," he assured her softly.

"I'm not mad, I just...dunno what to do anymore," she admitted. Orson hugged her . "I can't spend every night sleeping behind the Cartwright crypt or on some futon."

"That's why you need to let people help out."

"I get that, I really do. But right now, I only see one option here, Orson," Hannah said, looking up at the vampire's eyes.

"What's that, Princess?"

"Turn me into a vampire?"

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"Hannah, no! This can be solved in a less permanent way. Vampire's can only cross into the mortal world on Halloween. Is that what you want? One day a year to see your friends and family?" Orson demanded, holding Hannah at an arms length.

"Orson, I don't care!" Hannah cried, near tears. "I have nothing left there! Here? Here I have you and Rayne and Scary. Skully, Harry, Bug-A-Boo, I have you all . My family and my friends. They are all right here. I'd rather be here where I fit in and have everyone I need." Hannah was ready to get on her knees and beg her best friend to plunge his fangs into her throat.

"I won't do it, Hannah. You aren't thinking clearly. And before you run off to my parents, they won't either. If Scary was here...you would be in so much trouble." Orson pleaded, "Don't think like this. We'll fix everything."

"There's no fixing this. I've wanted to be here permanently since I was little. There is no reason for me not to be and if you won't help then I'll find a way myse - " Hannah was cut off when the door flew open with a bang.

"I thought you were sick?" Scary said, paying no mind to the door.

Hannah shot a glare at Orson. He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah...she's not sick. We just needed you over here."

Scary raised her eyebrows and placed her hands on her slender hips. She stared at the teenagers for a minute, eyes darting back and forth. She began to tap her foot. When had she become such a Mom? "Well," she said. "I'm waiting."

Orson spoke first, "Hannah needs to talk to you."

"Why do I get the impression this will be very complicated?" she replied. "Hannah?"

"Okay, so, Mom... My dad kinda kicked me out and I have nowhere to stay, not to mention I stopped going to school when he kicked me out." Scary Godmother's eyes widened, then she blinked in shock, her mouth slightly agape. "So I was wondering if I could stay here permanently as a vampire? 'Kay? Thanks, bye."

"Hannah Marie!" Scary cried in shock. "I think you know spending more time in the Side is the exact opposite of what I think is best for you." She dropped onto the couch, setting her pointy elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. "You deserve a normal life."

"Yeah, but guess what?" Hannah snapped with more attitude than necessary. "That' s not what I want. I want to stay here with you and Orson. As a vampire. Or even a witch maybe."

Orson butted in, "I told her we could find a less permanent solution to this problem. Isn't that right?"

"Orson, you are completely right."

Hannah couldn't take it anymore, her anger was bubbling over worse than Scary's cauldron. She jumped from the couch, grabbed her boots, and stormed down the halls of the manor. She threw the doors open in rage. The gargoyles leaped out of the way and called her names a few times . She pulled on her boots and took off without tieing them. She ran full speed down the dirt road, kicking up little dust clouds. She bolted around the corner and took that as an opportunity to tie her purple combat boots. she panted for a second and took off again, determined to lose Scary and Orson. Seven or eight minutes later she was bent over, gasping, on the creaky wooden porch of an old west style tavern named Diablo's Pub. She pushed open the screen door, right into Rayne, who was carrying a tray of drinks over her head as she shimmied around people.

"Hey! Watch it!" Rayne cried as drinks sloshed over the side. Then she realized who it was. "Hannah. What are you doing here? Aren't you suppose to be at Orson' s?"

"Can I," Hannah gasped. "Sleep here?"

"Um, yeah," Rayne said as she served some pirate-like ghosts. "Cots are out back. I'll be out when I get a break."

Hannah disappeared behind the bar and whipped back around, "Rayne!"

"Yeah!" The ghost called over the noise.

"If Scary or Orson ask, I'm not here!"

"Got it!"

"And thanks!" Hannah walked back through the saloon doors, where the cots were. It was a big room, with three rows of four cots generously spaced. Some of the bartenders were fast asleep on them. She recognized a few of the girls and tried to creep past as soundlessly as possible . They weren't all ghosts, some were, bu t there was a devil and a zombie and a w itch or two. Hannah curled up in one of the corner cots and was out like a light .

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"Hannah," someone whispered in a singsong voice. "Hannah, wake up." Rayne started to shake the girl's shoulder.

Hannah rolled over onto her back and stretched out with a yawn. "Mmm, what time is it?"

"One in the morning. Orson came by looking for you but I told him I hadn't seen you. What is going on?"

Hannah's not-entirely-awake head was trying to process what Rayne was saying. "Scary's trying to kick me out of the Side and my dad kicked me out of my house. Orson won't turn me into a vampire and Scary won't train me to be a witch. I kind a ran out mid conversation, though," Hannah added sheepishly.

"Why would you want to be a vampire? Why not a ghost?" Rayne asked as she tumbled in circles through the air in a way only ghosts could.

Hannah sat up curiously, grey eyes gleaming. "Didn't it hurt?"

"What? This?" Rayne pointed to the huge gash in her throat and shrugged. "I guess. I don't know. It was so long ago. But not all ghosts get in into Fright Side. Only the one's that died really gruesomely. I guess my dad slitting my throat is 'gruesome' enough." Rayne shurgged aga in and flopped onto the bed next to Hann ah. "I kinda wish it would heal, though. It is most definitely not attractive."

"Rayne," a man burst through the swinging doors. Speak of the devil, it was Rayne's dad, complete with all the firing squad bullet holes. "We need you out here. The customers are getting rowdy. Hannah , if you could come out and work the bar, it'd be much appreciated."

Rayne bounced off the bed. "Stay here. Last thing we need is you in the middle of a bar brawl." She patted Hannah's leg. " Go back to sleep. The bar closes in an hour, I'll be back then." She skipped out the door, happy as ever.

"Gruesome enough, huh?" Hannah murmured to herself. She was the last one left in the room, the others had probably woken up after Hannah had come in. She was wide awake now, it was technically one in the afternoon and she had certainly had enough sleep. She quietly debated within herself.

Not all ghosts get into the Side... I could chance it...but what if it doesn't work?...It's the only way, I'll have to try...but if I die here then I could just turn into a zombie... no, I would definitely be a ghost...then she looked down.

"Is this what I want to wear for eternity?" She asked herself aloud. Her plaid pj pants and insanity shirt and purple combat boots weren't exactly prime clothing. She walked into the bar and waved to Rayne and her dad on the way. She went upstairs to the house over the bar, Rayne's house, and rummaged through the ghosts room to find some clothes she had left there. They were neatly washed and folded in the otherwise empty closet, after all, ghosts can't change what they wear.

She looked down, satisfied. "There." A black and purple layered tulle mini skirt with black and chain suspenders hanging down the back, studded black leggings, purple boots, a semi low-cut black shirt with a silver upside-down cross on the front. She finished it by fastening a spiked choker around her neck. She brushed her hair out and it fell in waves down her front and all the way to her mid back.

She went and looked through Rayne's kitchen until she found a rather large kitchen knife. Then she ventured into the bathroom and filled the bath with nice, warm water. She climbed in clothes and all. Hannah raised the knife.

"Look, Rayne, I know she's here. Scary did a locator spell." Orson had burst through the front door. Hannah could almost hear him sniff the air and fly towards the bathroom door. The door was flung open, revealing Hannah with the knife poised over her chest. His eyes widened and flared red with shock. "Hannah, what in Dracula's name are you doing?!" He snatched the knife from her hand and gave it to Rayne, who returned it to the kitchen . Orson grabbed her hands and pulled the sopping wet fourteen year old from the tub. Rayne handed her a towel. "You tried vampire, witch, and now ghost?"

"Orson, you won't help me so I'm helping myself!" Hannah tried to defend her choice but Orson tore it to shreds with his wisdom, which seemed way too perfected for someone who looked his age.

"Hannah, let's just get you home. We can talk about it there, your mother is worried off her broom and I suppose she had a right to be." He wrapped an arm and a towel around the shivering girl and walked her home .

"Hannah!" Scary shouted, jumping from the couch and hugging the girl. "What happened to you?" Hannah shrugged.

"She tried to become a ghost," Orson told Scary.

Scary's eyes grew just like Orson's had when he found her in the tub. "Hannah, no. Just, no. If that's what it's come to, then, yes, you can be a witch."

"Or a vampire," Orson added.

Scary gave him a mom look. "I think witch would be best."

"Vampire can happen right now," Orson argued.

"Witch gives her time to change her mind ."

"Vampire is just cooler."

"Guys!" Hannah yelled and they turned to stare at her. "It's me. I will choose. God. I want to be a witch. Fourteen isn't exactly the best year to be frozen at. "

Orson shrugged, "Fair enough."

"Then let's get started!" Scary giggled. She waved her hands and with a few bippidy-bobbidy-boos the living room turned into a place to party, like the first day Hannah had ever seen the Side. "Skully!" Scary trilled.

"What?" Mr. Pettibone cried from upstairs. "I cannot believe you are up at this hour, Scary." He appeared at the top of the stairs, he looked about in understanding. "A party, eh? What for?"

"The start of Hannah's witch training. Order pizza! Get Harry and Bug-A-Boo over here! And don't let Harry near the pizza!"

"No garlic on the pizza!" Which was, of course, Orson's request.

"Thank you!" Hannah cried, grinning from ear to ear.

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**_Twelve years later..._**  
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Hannah had graduated from her witch training a little over two years ago, and was frozen at the age of twenty-four. At which time she had married Orson's cousin , Kristoff, and had twins, a boy and a girl. She named them Pandora and Cyren (pronounced "Siren"). The boy was a vampir e and the girl a witch, just like their parents. Presently, they were throwing a party at Scary's house for the twin's second birthday.

"Here." Hannah handed Pandora to Orson. Orson was there with his wife, Bellatrix , and their son, Obsidian. Obsidian was a bit older than Pandora and Cyren, by almost a year.

"She's getting so big!" Bellatrix cried.

Hannah sighed. "They all are."

"Hello, everyone!" Scary said from the h ead of the room. "I hope you're all having a wonderful October thirty-first!" There was a chorus of "yeahs". "Then let's party!" The music was kicked up full force.

Hannah swayed back and forth to the music with Cyren in her arms. Two little fangs had started to protrude over his little pink lip. "Mummy!" he said, reaching for her face.

Hannah laughed, smiling at the little guy. She saw Orson walk over with Pandora in his arms. "I believe this is yours," he joked, referring to Pandora. He didn't hand her to Hannah though, she had her hands full with a squirming Cyren.

They stood for a few minutes in companionable silence. "You know those Friday playdates?"

"Yeah," Orson replied. He was watching Bellatrix dance with Obsidian. He turned to look at Hannah.

"Well.. they're about to be a little noi sier..." Hannah informed him, shifting Cyren to her hip to show a small baby bump.

"Oh, congratulations!" Orson cried as he hugged Hannah around the children. "But they're about to be a lot noisier." He pointed to Bellatrix who, like Hannah, had a just barely noticeable baby bump.

"Oh my," Hannah gasped. "You know? Sometimes I miss those quiet Friday movies," she joked lightly.

Orson laughed, "Me too, me too."

"Kristoff and I decided that if it's a girl, we'll name her Paradox, and if it's a boy...Orson," Hannah told him ecstatically.

"Really? Oh, Hannah, that's an honor. And we decided to name her Hannah. It's a girl."

Hannah hugged Orson again. She was glad that on that night, twelve years ago, Scary had agreed to let her be a witch. Sh e had a best friend and beautiful children and a loving husband. This was how it was meant to be.

"Dracula?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for stopping me that night at Rayne's."

Orson nodded. "No problem, Princess..

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**_Reviews? Please? Much Appreciated._**


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